


Decimation

by star_fields



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Death but not actual death, Gen, I dunno why I wrote this, Poor Scott, Sad, but yeah, i dunno, its confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:30:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_fields/pseuds/star_fields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were five minutes away when they heard the roar, it struck fear in their hearts. That was it, he was dead, they were too late. Scott threw opened the door and ran, not caring about Kira screaming for him from the car, the only thing ringing in his ears were roar and howl, the heart rendering scream of a banshee from Lydia. He was too late, they were too late, it ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decimation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! So I was feeling really, really sad for some strange reason after listening to Alan Walker's Faded. I don't even know why I was listening to it on repeat and it just made me think of this. It's kinda open for interpretation. So there's that.
> 
> I literally just wrote this on the AO3 page while waiting for one of my sister's many downloads to complete (she hates teen wolf, who doesn't like teen wolf? apparently its very spoof like. How are we related, is the bigger mystery) anywho this is totally sad trash that I made up in like a few minutes to annoy my sister whilst listening to sad music. so yeah, sorry about that.
> 
> *disclaimer, I don't own teen wolf or its characters!
> 
> Also, unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own!
> 
> (Edit: so I updated this hopefully it makes sense)

They were five minutes away when they heard the roar, it struck fear in their hearts. That was it, he was dead, they were too late. Scott threw opened the door and ran, not caring about Kira screaming for him from the car, the only thing ringing in his ears were a roar and howl, the heart rendering scream of a banshee from Lydia. He was too late, they were too late, it ended. 

 

He ran as fast as he could, stumbling over a piece of wood left over on the side of the road from where a tree fell during the storm that had been circulating over Beacon Hills for the past few days. Scott knew it was a signal for something bad that was about to happen, Deaton had warned him, but no matter how hard he had tried to protect everyone, someone had been left behind.

 

Tears poured down his cheeks, the salt mixing with sweat, dust and blood streaking his face, they had just left one fight for another, a fight that should never have happened, innocent and so uncalled for. The pack had survived so much, lived through so much and now for one of their own to be gone. Life snuffed out before they could all celebrate, a life senselessly taken from them all because a man was mad that his wife had gotten help away from his abusive clutches. Scott knew he never should have allowed for _him_ to have helped. He was their heartbeat, their reason they were still all glued together. And now he was dead. It shouldn't have happened, damnit. It never should have happened. If only he had taken one of them with him instead of acting like the superhero he thought he was. He had helped Scott from the beginning, and now he had left Scott hanging from a thread not knowing where to go from here, what to do now. 

 

Scott ran, heart beating fast, he ran and ran, until he came to the house. The Sheriff was there already but he paid him no mind, couldn't think until he could see for himself. See if it was true, but knowing deep down that there couldn't have been a mistake. There was no mistake, but hope. Hope was a cruel feeling, bringing with it something akin to happiness then taking it away leaving nothing but decimation in its wake. 

 

Breaths coming out in gasps, sweat trickling down his back like icy fingers crawling over him, hoping, praying he was wrong.

 

He wasn't.

 

Blood was everywhere, Scott could scent it, and it made him wish he couldn't smell it. It turned his stomach, threatening for everything to come up. That blood was never supposed to spill, it was never supposed to be scented from all directions. Yet it was. 

 

Shocked, frozen, he fell to his knees, eyes staring wide. There he was, scarlet blood painting the walls, pooling underneath him, eyes staring blankly up unseeing. 

 

Dead.

 

Dead.

 

Dead.

 

Never coming back.

 

The dam broke, Scott's eyes turned scarlet just like the blood coating him as he crawled to the one person who stood by him through everything. Holding him like spun glass, fragile, close to breaking. Broken. He howled for something lost that could never be regained again. 

 

Hope.

 

Decimated.

 

His friend. Gone. 

 

His brother.

 

Dead.

 

 

______________________________________

 

The funeral was going to be held the next day. Scott lay on his bed un-moving. His heart was so sad that nothing was making sense anymore. His brother had died and he didn't know what to do anymore. 

 

His blankets were wrapped around him burrito style like Sti- _he_ used to love doing. Scott just lay listlessly unfocussed on anything, eyes blood red and swollen. Tears soaked through his pillow. 

 

He heard the door bang open from down and then the pounding of footsteps on the staircase until finally his room door burst open. Guess Derek finally got the news. 

 

"Scott!" barked Derek jerking Scott on the bed from one end to the other. 

"Where is Stiles?" he enunciated very slowly. 

 

Scott just wanted to bury his head in the sand and block out everything. But Derek was literally breathing down his neck and he had to respond. As alpha he had to say something. 

 

"He's dead Derek. Dead,"

 

Derek just wilted after that. He sunk to the floor pulled at his hair, rocking back and forth tears streaming down his cheeks. Scott knew he should say something but he was just numb. Nothing would compute so he lay back into his bed and stared into space. 

 

After a while Scott woke up. His bladder was full and he needed the toilet desperately. He made his was to the bathroom almost tripping over Derek who was still holding onto his knees with his down still rocking himself and little whimpers was coming out of him. 

 

Scott stumbled into the bathroom and finally, finally _,_  relief. 

 

He walked up to the sink to wash his hands and looked into the mirror. At first he notice anything. Then two hands emerged. Shocked, Scott pulled at the hands I'm reflex, he pulled so hard that he fell backwards taking the thing with him. Until he heard a loud "Oof" and Derek crashed through the bathroom door. 

 

"Stiles?!" They both yelled together. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not sure if this makes sense but I figured hey why not. Also I'm not sure if I should continue or not. At this point it's up for interpretation and also anyone who wants to continue using this same storyline is more than welcome to. In fact I'm so okay with that. Would love to see where someone else takes this story. 
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
